


Broken Bottles and Empty Dreams

by Andromytta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcoholic Dean Winchester, Based on Old Neighborhood by The Station Breaks, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Pierced Castiel, Sex Addict Castiel, Tattooed Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromytta/pseuds/Andromytta
Summary: Dean Winchester's and Castiel Novak's worlds fall apart in different places, at the same time.  When they meet at a bar outside of Reno, can they put each other back together again?





	Broken Bottles and Empty Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since I first heard "Old Neighborhood" by The Station Breaks, I felt deeply that it could be a Destiel story. When I had the opportunity to participate in the 2018 Louden Swain FanFic/FanArt Project (Featuring The Station Breaks) I knew it was time to make it a reality. Thanks Mrs. Whozeewhatits for putting this great project together!
> 
> And thanks to my beta witchofletters for her input!

_ You can give until your arms are falling off. _

_ You can break out through the window in the loft. _

_ You can bite through a pencil ‘til your body fills with lead. _

_ There’s a hundred ways to die before you’re dead… _

Twenty-seven was the worst year of Dean Winchester’s life.  His eighteen year old brother, Sam, who he all but raised when they were growing up, was leaving him.  The most frustrating thing for Dean was that he was actually proud of the kid. Full ride to Stanford. Who wouldn’t want that for someone they loved?  Too bad he couldn’t just tell Sam that.

“Dammit, Sam!  You can’t just leave me like this! I gave up everything for you!”

“I have to Dean!  I’m not going to spend the rest of my life wasting away on this dead end street!”  Sam shouted back at him. Softer he said, “You should leave too.”

“And go where?  Am I supposed to bunk with you in your dorm?”

“No.  But you could get a job and an apartment.”

“Just go, Sam.  Leave. Just like everyone else.” Dean regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth , b ut he couldn’t bring himself to apologize.  He was afraid he’d only beg Sam to stay. He couldn’t do that.  Sam just sighed at him, flung his duffle bag over his shoulder, and met the taxi waiting for him.  The loft door slammed closed with a finality that blew over Dean. It was the end of his world. He threw his half full bottle of Jack Daniels at the door with a satisfying crash.

S mashing the bottle felt good, so Dean continued to trash the tiny loft above their dad’s auto repair shop he and Sam grew up in.  He swept an armful of picture frames and tchokes off the dusty pressboard bookshelf. After their mom died, John let the business fall into disrepair and let himself fall deeper into drink.  Dean knew enough about the business to keep it somewhat afloat. But raising his baby brother and taking care of his  drunkard father and running a business was hard on the teenager.   The man who ended up buying the business from the bank let the boys stay in the loft, as long as Dean would work as free labor for him in the shop .

Of course, once Alistair was done using Dean, he left too.  With no one to run the shop, Dean was forced to get odd jobs all over town.  When John died on Dean’s 21 st birthday, the insurance money was at least enough to pay off the debt left behind, and not much else.

Despite everything, Dean never once let Sammy miss a day of school or want for anything, no matter what.  Sam grew up well, and was leaving Dean behind. Just like everyone else in his life. Dean opened another bottle of Jack and continued smashing things around the loft.  He threw one of Sam’s soccer trophies through the window.  He paused briefly, shoving his hands through his hair, tugging roughly at the short strands. He seized his guitar by the neck and threw it to the floor.  The one and only luxury he allowed himself all these years, and now he  wished it were kindling .  It was a gift from their Uncle Bobby , one h e’d had to pawn multiple times to make sure Sam had food.  He always got it back. Now, he couldn’t even stand to look at it.  It sailed out the window too.

An unknown amount of time later,  maybe it was hours, maybe it was days, Dean  had gone through every bottle of liquor in the place, including ones long hidden by John.  He  had destroyed anything and everything that had meant anything to him and Sam.  He was already well on his way to destroying himself. He had no one and nothing left.

***

At the same time Dean Winchester’s world was falling apart, so was Castiel Novak’s.  His twenty-first birthday did not go the way he expected. From the time he was a teenager, Cas’s love of body modification disturbed his upper middle class parents to no end.   But w hen he discovered sex not long after his first tattoo?  That was that. Between the tats, piercings, and the constant stream of random men and women in and out of Castiel’s room at all hours of the day and night, his parents were done.

Marv and Naomi Novak were waiting for Cas when he slunk in the door of his  parents’ ostentatious three story home at the end of the cul de sac at 3AM.  He had fresh ink, and reeked of sex and weed.

“Castiel James Novak!  Where on Earth have you been?” his mother asked , condescension and irritation dripping from every shrill syllable.

“Out,” he said in a low growl,  his booted foot on the bottom step, cringing as the lights flared in the living room. He knew this wasn’t going to go well for him.  And he’d almost made it, too.  Absently, he reached into the pocket of his baggy black cut off jeans, stroking the rosary he kept there, clutching and unclutching it.

“Answer your mother, son!”  His father was a small man, but his anger made him seem larger, especially as he came up to where Cas was frozen, desperately wanting to bolt up the stairs..  “As if we don’t already know.”  Marv flicked the bandage over the new tattoo and looked mildly satisfied when Cas flinched.  “You stink of sex and drugs!”  he blustered.  “We will not stand for this behavior any longer!”

“I don’t do drugs!”  h e shouted.  It was the truth.  Castiel was all about having a good time, but he stayed far away from the drug scene.  He saw what they did to his older brother, Lucifer. So while he frequently hooked up with people who did drugs, he never touched them himself.

“How are we supposed to believe you?”  Naomi asked in  what she thought came across as a quiet, caring voice.  It was her fake “I’m a good mother” voice , one Cas knew all too well .  Naomi Novak never cared what her children did until it came down to making her look bad as a parent.  She ignored Lucifer’s drug problem until the ladies in her church outreach group started to gossip about it , popping a few Valium of her own to deal with all the “stress”.

Castiel figured that’s what was happening now.  After all, just last week he had taken a deacon’s teenaged son to bed.  Repeatedly. It was rare for Cas to have a repeat partner, but it was just too much fun defiling the virgin son of a high ranking member of his parent’s Catholic church.  Eventually, though, he did get bored and moved on.

“Son, we are merely concerned about your behavior.  About your future. What are you going to do with your life?  You’re not a kid anymore, Castiel.” That was Marv , a different brand of mock-concern, but patronizing and demeaning nonetheless.

He snorted.  “Sure you are.  Mother, you’re more concerned with what your hoity-toity church ladies are saying about me.  As for you,  _ Father _ , you have no right to talk to me about who I’m sleeping with when we all know you’re banging  your hygienist, Micah!”

“Well, I never!” Naomi exclaimed dramatically.

“Oh shut  _ up _ , Mother.  We all know you know!  The only reason you haven’t put a stop to it is because for now your church ladies  _ don’t _ know!”

“Castiel, you will be quiet right this second,” Marv growled.

“I will not! ” Castiel spun around, ire in his voice.  “I will not stand here and have you two hypocrites berating me!”

“That’s  _ it _ !  Castiel, get out of my house!  Now! I will not allow you to talk to me or your mother like that!  If you can’t get your act together, then get out!”

“Fine, I will!”

***

_ I met him in a bar outside of Reno. _

_ He was looking in the mood to raise some Hell. _

_ The rush wasn’t loud enough to quiet the pain. _

_ We was different, we was exactly the same… _

They travelled separately, both away from the places they where they grew up.  Dean came from Kansas while Cas came from Minnesota. Their paths converged in a bar outside of Reno.  Dean was hustling pool for cash, but was already far too drunk to exhibit his normal skill. Castiel was sporting a fresh piercing on his eyebrow and was, of course, perfectly sober.  He watched the exquisite man with reddish brown hair and green eyes that sparkled even in the dim light of bar as he still managed to divest a group of frat boys of their beer money despite his obvious inebriation.  As Cas watched him, he came to the conclusion that if the beautiful man were sober, he’d give Castiel some decent competition. In his current state, though, Cas had no doubts he could dominate the pool table…as well as the man currently leaning against it.

Cas ran a hand through his spikey black hair and sauntered over to the pool tables.  “What are the stakes?” He asked, adding extra gravel to his “made for sex” voice. Many of Cas’s lovers told him how they could come from just his voice alone.

Dean looked his new “victim” up and down.  He took in the tattoos, piercings, black hair and clothes and thought him to be an easy mark.  He totally didn’t get stuck on those too blue eyes. “Why don’t we start with $20 and go from there?” He asked, only mildly slurring his words.

“No.” Cas said with authority.  “I have another wager in mind.”

“Yeah, Buddy?  What’s that?”

Cas leaned very close into the other man’s personal space.  He whispered in his ear, “When I win, I get to fuck you.”

Dean (who absolutely did not blush) chuckled and stepped away.  “Yeah, and what happens when I win?”

“ _ If  _ you win?”  Cas shrugged.  “Then you get to fuck me.  Either way, it’s a win-win situation, don’t you think?”  He winked.

Dean stumbled a bit, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol currently coursing through his system.  He ran a hand through his hair and along the back of his neck before stuttering. “Uh, yeah, okay, yeah.  Rack ‘em up.”

Buzzed as he was  , Dean turned out to be a bit more of a challenge than Castiel was initially expecting.  During their game, they exchanged names (first names only) and discovered they were staying at the same rundown pay-by-the-week motel.

Eventually, Cas did beat Dean.  He was the first one to do it since Dean had arrived in Reno and started hustling in this bar.  Castiel fucked Dean in the alley behind the bar,  all rough touches and sloppy, biting kisses, Dean’s face rasping against the rough bricks of the alley’s wall and then later in Dean’s room at the motel,  long and slow and hard.

As Dean lay in bed, passed out from drink and sated from sex, Cas curled in the corner of the room, fidgeting with his rosary, running it through his fingers and counting the beads , not praying, though he could use the Virgin’s blessings .  The rush he felt wasn’t loud enough to quiet pain.  He was out of money and couldn’t afford his room in this cheap motel, let alone get another tattoo.  He had to do  _ something _ .  At some point during their activities, a pocket knife fell out of one of Dean’s pockets and onto the floor.  Cas stared at it as he sat in the quiet and mostly dark of the room. His parents never bothered to find out  _ why  _ he acted as he did, just like they let Lucifer suffer in the silence of his addiction until it became blight on their reputation.  They never cared to know what was driving their children’s self-destructive behavior. They never cared to know the pain hidden under his tattoos.  So he stared at the knife and wondered if that pain would feel like relief the way his body art did.

Before he could make a move towards it, Dean stirred.  “Cas, come to bed,” he said, voice rough with sleep. Cas looked over at the other man, who was barely propped up on his elbows, and he suddenly realized he wouldn’t deny him anything.  Cas climbed into bed next to him and Dean immediately wrapped himself around him and went right back to sleep.

***

_ There’s no such thing as trouble when you stare it in the eye, _

_ No one’s gonna touch me if they could… _

They started travelling together after that.  They made a living hustling pool at night and picking up odd jobs during the days.  Each man tried very hard not to let the other get too close. Dean continued to drink his nights away.  Cas still had a different partner each night. Yet, they still came together after all was said and done, sleeping wrapped around each other like their lives depended on it.  They still fucked often, Dean occasionally joining Cas for his one night stands.

Eventually, without them even knowing, they let their walls down around each other.  Cas spent less nights away and Dean didn’t drink as much. Castiel convinced Dean to stop avoiding Sam’s calls and they spent a couple of weeks visiting with him in Palo Alto before moving on.  Sam wanted them to stay, but being in one place for too long didn’t appeal to either of them.

Then one day, everything changed.

***

 

_ Remember when we drove to Minnesota? _

_ I can’t believe we made it one piece. _

_ We’d fight like an old couple, we’d party like teens _

_ Life exists in moments in between… _

Cas ignored the call from his parents, like he always did on the very rare times they would call.  This time, though, they left a message, which they never did. It was two days and half a state before Cas bothered to listen to it.  They were headed South Dakota because Dean wanted to visit his uncle’s grave. When Cas finally listened to his parents’ message, they changed direction to head to Minnesota instead.  Castiel’s brother finally lost his battle with drugs and died of an overdose. He had to go home for the funeral. He couldn’t  _ not  _ go.  Castiel dealt with his grief the only way he knew how.  He dropped back into his old habits of picking up random strangers at bars.  Some nights he brought them back to where ever he and Dean were staying. Sometimes he went back to their place.  As Cas fell back into his addiction, so did Dean. They stopped overnight before making it back to Cas’s home town when it all came to a head.  Castiel brought his latest conquest, a feisty brunette named Meg, back to their room. He tried to encourage Dean’s participation only to find the other man too drunk to do much more than paw clumsily at the poor woman.

After Dean inevitably passed out, Cas and Meg had a mutually unsatisfying encounter and she left without even saying goodbye.

Unsated and unhappy, Castiel violently shook Dean awake.  “Dammit, Dean! You can’t keep drinking like this!”

Dean struggled up to a seated position and laughed at Cas.  “That’s rich coming from you, Cas.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Dean?”

Somehow, Dean managed to find the one beer bottle on the cluttered nightstand that had anything left in it.  He took a long swig of the piss warm liquid before using it to gesture at Cas. “You, with your bevy of random  fucktoys .  Dammit, Cas!  When did I stop being enough for you?”

Cas squinted his eyes, cocked his head, and just stared at the other man.  “Since when do you care whether or not you’re ‘enough’ for me?” He used air quotes around “enough” to emphasize his point.

Dean sagged where he was sitting on the bed.  “Can’t you see I’m in love with you,” Dean muttered into his beer.  He’d taken so long to admit it, because if he did, that meant Cas would leave him.  But it was clear Cas was already leaving him, so he may as well put all his cards on the table.

Castiel jerked his head up from where he was staring at the rosary in his hands.  Funny, he didn’t remember taking it out of his pocket at the start of their fight.  “You’re in love with me?” He just stared, flabbergasted, at the other man for several heartbeats before he was moving towards the bed.  He crowded into Dean’s space and wrapped his arms around the other man. He kissed him hard for several minutes. When they parted for air, Cas finally spoke.  “I’m in love with you too, Dean Winchester.”

Dean just looked at him with glassy green eyes.  “Then why, Cas?”

“Honestly, I don’t know Dean,” Castiel shrugged.  “I guess this is just how I deal with things. My brother dying, seeing my parents again.  It’s just…it’s just too much Dean.”

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas and pressed a kiss into his dark hair.  Cas pressed his head against Dean’s shoulder, crying softly into the warm skin.  Dean had never seen Cas cry before. He always seemed the stronger, more stoic of the two.  It was one of things Dean loved about him. Seeing this softer side made him fall even harder, if that was at all possible.  “We’ll get through this, together.”

They did get through it together.  They got through the funeral being ignored by Cas’s family.  They got through the derisive sneers from his parents when Cas tried to introduce Dean as his boyfriend.  They got through removing Lucifer’s meager possessions from his sad, run down rooming house. Then, they got the hell out of Minnesota.

_ Can’t catch a break or get a hit _

_ We’re too young to deal with this shit. _

_ I’m not my father’s forty ‘cause at forty he was gone. _

They finally made it to Sioux Falls to visit Dean’s uncle’s grave.  As Dean placed the flowers by the head stone, he looked at Cas. “I think I want to go home.”  So they did.

They fixed up Dean’s old loft.  They actually got real jobs, Dean as a bartender and Cas at a tattoo parlor.  Cas still brought home the occasional one night stand, but it was always with Dean’s blessing, and he was usually an active participant.  When Dean entered an AA program, Cas gave him his rosary, so he’d always know Cas was there for him. Together, they let go of the ghosts from their pasts and carved out a life for themselves.

_ There’s no silver lining. _

_ How’d you make it through the day? _

_ I don’t know how to tell you if I could. _

_ And it’s all good… _

_ And it’s all good at the dead end street in my old neighborhood. _


End file.
